A Grey Day
by all times pass
Summary: Just a day in the Life of my OC Xander Grey, featured in the story "Two" by alyssremers7. Takes place prior to his finding Camp Half-Blood. If you like it, check out her story (it's still in the early stages), if not, check it out anyways.
1. Wake Up Call

**AN: This is basically a look at the Life of Xander Grey before he found his way to Camp Half-Blood in the story Two by fanfictioner alyssremers7. As he is my character, and she has told me on a few occasions that she can't write his POV well without me, I figured that anyone interested would like to know what things were like for him. On to the story.**

**Disclaimer: Obviously, I'm not Rick Riordan. And this is fan fiction. I own Xander, Lance, and Leah. Not this wonderfully crafted universe that I would love to be a part of.**

Xander's POV

I woke up early today, just like always, in the vain hopes of not seeing any vulgarities scrawled across the bed above me in the barracks of the 8th Cohort. As expected, there were the usual insults (Death Breath, Scrawny [I don't quite know why they think I find that insulting], Freak, etc.) but there were a few... unusual ones. Zombie-loving Assfucker, Knife Ear, and Schtako Guzzler. The first one makes no since at all for two reasons: the only "zombies" I've ever encountered were some odd demons that I dusted pretty easily, and I'm a virgin. I mean, I'm twelve. I roll my eyes, shaking my head and thinking, _I will never understand people._ The second one I just shrug off, kind of. _I know my ears are a little pointy, but is it really that noticeable? _The third one. I don't know what that means. I continue to stare at it trying to figure it out, just laying in my bed, focused until...

"Morning, Black," greeted Leah.

I turn to look at Leah to see her smiling despite having obviously just woken up. Her long red hair is more than a little messy, and her green eyes are still a little glassed over. She's wearing her usual pajamas; a blue t-shirt and shorts that go about to her knees. "It's Grey, Leah, not Black," I respond, rolling my eyes. I turn my attention back to my new list of insults.

"Yeah, but on days like this, Black suits you so much better. You look like you're thinking about trying to kill someone, and it isn't even 7:30 yet. Get some interesting ones, today?" She comes over to inspect them with me, moving me over to lay down beside me. She skips over the usual ones, muttering something about the lack of creativity of some people, and finally reaches the same three that stopped me. "What in the name of Pluto?" she whispers. "You're twelve!"

At the mention of my dad, I look over to her. "Hey, let's not bring my father into this. People hate me enough already."

"I know, but you're twelve!" she responds, muttering crossly. "And how is Knife Ear even an insult?"

"It's a derogatory term used by people who are racist against elves in video games and books. It is used because of the comparatively odd shape of the ears relative to humans, and is supposed to make the difference more apparent and shame the elves," states a newly awakened Lance. As opposed to Leah, his red hair is cut short and his green eyes are clear whenever he wakes up. I really don't know how he does it. Lance, now frowning, continues his monologue with, "and I hope you two are happy because you just made me use up my one intelligent thing for the day. I hope you two have your kool-aid ready."

Ah, yes. Our friendly drinking game. Whenever Lance does something stupid that Leah and I observe, see, hear, or smell, we have to drink our kool-aid. The one who loses is the one who gets so sugar high they collapse. We usually end up going through about five gallons of it a day, but he doesn't usually start doing stupid stuff until after noon, when he has finally used his intelligent act for the day. This is going to be a long day.

"Well, little brother, I don't suppose you can strain yourself to tell us what a schtako guzzler might be?" asked Leah.

"FIVE MINUTES, LEAH! THAT DOESN'T MEAN ANYTHING!" Lance shouts, "And no, I can't. I've never heard of schtako."

The rest of the barracks, woken up by Lance's shouting, starts getting ready for the day. Shooting a few dirty glances our way and laughing is Caius and his group, basically the bullies of this cohort. The first night I was known to be a child of Pluto, they came over to my bunk while I slept. I knew they were there, and was worried they were going to attack me, but instead, they just started the nightly routine of leaving me insults on the bunk above me. After a few nights, I figured out they weren't going to attack me, so I just let them continue. It was a better option than confronting them, and it wasn't worth bringing to Reyna, or even Mark, the leader of our cohort. It doesn't help that people try to avoid children of Pluto like the plague, or just openly despise them. We're thought of as bad luck, not that there are many of us around anyway. The only other one that I know of is Nico di'Angelo, and he isn't around all that much. I've heard that there's a girl named Hazel who's a daughter of Pluto as well, but I haven't had any contact with her.

"Come on, you two. We might have a long day ahead of us, no point in putting it off any longer. Reyna wants to see us at 1, and we have archery and combat training between now and then." We grab our clothes to go to the showers, Lance and Leah racing out the door. As I'm walking out, I look around to see if I'm forgetting anything. Caius shoots me a look that screams trouble before turning back to his little crew, smirking. _Yeah, this is going to be a long day._


	2. Bath Time

Walking out of the barracks, I saw Lance and Leah already about two blocks ahead of me in the streets of New Rome. The "mature" twins I know them to be, one undoubtedly challenged the other to a race, which was immediately accepted. Watching the sun slowly begin to crest the hill that formed the eastern boundary of Camp Jupiter, i thought, _I don't understand their rush. If they would just low down for once, they might see why I actually hate sleeping in the barracks. Gods, I wish there were more trees in this camp. _I stayed locked in thought like this for the rest of my trek to the showers. I probably would've continued walking right past them if Lance hadn't grabbed me and roughly pulled me into the locker room.

Ok, mild confession time: there aren't any showers, just communal baths, quite possibly my least favorite thing about this whole camp. It's so unsanitary, especially for the people who take later baths. I'd say you might as well bathe in the river, but at least in the river your dirt and grime get carried away. In the baths, it just stays there until it's drained. Really, it's the only reason that I wake up as early as I do anymore (I know I'm never going to not see insults when I wake up), clean bath water and an empty locker room. Despite the reputation for discipline Rome has, if there is one thing a few of my scouting missions have taught me, it's that a locker room of teenage males with fewer brain cells than muscles is the same around the world, or at least the San Francisco Bay Area. Settling for the more modest approach, I strip down to my underwear, grab a towel, and walk out to the bath to see Lance sitting in the bath, presumably waiting for me so we can get each other's backs. I also see that he opted for the less modest approach, his boxers laying atop his towel. Inwardly, I sigh. Outwardly, I just drop my towel next to his, and get in the water, resolving to be out first.

As I step in, the warm water slowly relaxes me, easing out the stiffness from my bad night of sleep. By the time the water is up to my neck, my eyes are closed in the simple bliss of relaxation.

**_SPLASH!_**

_Well, so much for relaxation, _I thought, my head now dripping with water from Lance's antics. I hadn't even noticed him climb out of the bath, let alone get the running start for his cannonball. As Lance surfaced, I fixed him with the most menacing glare a mostly naked, dripping wet twelve-year-old can give to someone substantially bigger and stronger. Suffice it to say, Lance could barely contain his laughter.

"Dude, lighten up, I'm just having some fun," Lance said, still trying not to laugh as I was still glaring, "You're acting like a real killjoy."

"Lance, this is a bath, not a pool. As such, it is not our playground just because we're the only ones in it. Now, will you please hand me that bottle of shampoo?" I asked, pointing past him to the ever present hygiene product in question.

"Yeah, sure," he responded, quickly swimming over to the other side of the large bath and back. He quickly squirted some into his hand before handing me the bottle. Repeating Lance's process, I recapped the bottle with my chin and set it on the edge of the bath. As I began to lather up, Lance smirked at me and said, "Don't forget to get behind your knife ears."

_Ok, quick stock. The pros and cons of punching Lance: pros include possibly hurting him and thus shutting him up. Cons include definitely hurting myself, and probable retaliation from Lance. Fuck it. _My left arm lashes out quickly, connecting solidly with Lance's right. _Ow, that hurt. I really hate being right all the time. _Rubbing my knuckles, I look over to see Lance looking at me as if to say, "Really?"

"Really?-"

_Hey, right again._

"- Man, Xander, you really need to hit the gym if you hurt yourself more than me when you punch. I would think that all that time you spend twirling your pole around would build **some **muscle." As if to further stress his point, he punched me in the arm, to which my only thought was, _And I'm right again. I need to pay attention to my pros and cons lists if I'm going to take the time to make them. _"I mean, the thing is six feet long and pure Stygian Iron. I'm honestly amazed you can even pick the thing up."

"Yeah, yeah. Be quiet and get my back for me, will you?" I say, turning my back to him. "And I will have you know that I have plenty of muscle from my practice with my **staff**, and could probably go through all of my drills with it for three hours straight."

"What drills?" Lance asked, scrubbing my back. _Dear Gods, I could hear the confused look on his face. This boy is too stupid to function, and yet here he is. _Raising my eyes to the sky, I think, _Ok, I already knew you were up there. I don't need you performing miracles to prove it._

Turning around and signaling for Lance to do the same, I say, "My drills, Lance. That thing I usually do end up doing at least three hours a day. What you called 'twirling my pole' and, knowing you, have probably also referred to it as pole dancing when people ask what I'm doing."

"Hey!" he exclaims, indignantly, "I only do that when Leah asks, and only when no one else is around. And trust me, if you could see yourself, you would probably call it dancing, too. It just happens to be pole dancing because it's with a pole."

"Do I even want to know how my drills qualify as dancing in your eyes?"

"Because, Xander, anytime you aren't fighting, you seem scrawny and awkward, but when you are, even if it's just against a bunch of dummies, you seem lithe and graceful. You have no wasted motion, and every action flows smoothly from one into the other. Plus, you have all these flips and rolls and bends and twists, put a girl in your hands and she would be all over you by the end of the night. You know, if you could get past the awkwardness of being alone and dancing with a girl."

By his second to last sentence, I was just sitting there in the bath, frozen, slack-jawed with surprise, and blushing from his description of my practices. His last sentence broke me out of my daze, and I paused just long enough to think, _What part of I don't need you performing miracles didn't you get? _That thought completed, I playfully smacked Lance on the back of his head.

"That was for the 'girl' comment. I would have no troubles getting past my alleged awkwardness, the trouble is that there is probably no girl in New Rome who would want to dance with me. Everybody hates Pluto's children, remember?"

"Not ev-"

"Are you two ladies done getting your manicures, or am I gonna have to come in there and drag you two to sword practice naked?" Leah yelled.

At this, Lance and I are both scrambling out of the bath, not particularly desiring to be dragged through New Rome naked. We quickly dry ourselves off and run into the locker room, shooing Leah out so that we can get dressed. We exit the locker room within the minute, and head off to the fighting pit, Lance challenging Leah to yet another race, myself opting to trail behind and enjoy the slight breeze of the early morning and think.

_This day, it just feels so weird. Lance said two smart things within the span of an hour, and has yet to break anything. And I almost forgot about Caius. What was with him and his gang today? I know they usually look like they're up to something, but that look he gave me before I left the barracks, it's like he knows something. _I am pulled out of my reverie by twin cries of, "Hurry up, Xander! If you're late, you'll be partnered with the instructor again." _Shit, that's right. The instructor, also praetor of New Rome, Reyna Arellano-Ramirez. She is one scary lady, and brutal with a sword. I would go so far as to call her pretty if I wasn't afraid she would snap me in half for making a comment that had nothing to do with swordplay. _

Putting on a burst of speed, I sprint past both Lance and Leah, heading towards the fighting pit. I keep this up most of the way there, and when the entrance is in sight, I look back to taunt them, but whatever I was about to say gets caught in my throat after colliding with someone, both of us falling to the ground. I turn to apologize to whoever it was and am met with the frightening sight of an angry Reyna.

"I-I-I-I'm so-so sorry, Lady Reyna. I didn't mean to run into you, I-I-I was just trying to-" I attempt to stammer out.

"Save it, Grey. Get into the pit, grab a weapon, and get ready to practice. You get to spar with me again, and after, you can have the added pleasure of polishing the weapons, and doing one hundred push ups and sit ups," she said angrily, as she picks herself up off the ground.

"Y-y-yes ma'am. Of course." I hurriedly get up and half walk, half run into the fighting pit.

"Oh, and Grey?" Reyna calls after me.

I turn back to her, just waiting for her to finish.

"No armor today. Just you and your staff versus me and my sword."

_Shit._

_**A/N: I did not intend for so much of this chapter to be a discussion between two guys in an overgrown bathtub, and actually was hoping to get into the actual sparring between Xander and Reyna, not just that little whatever you would call that at the end there. In all honesty, none of this stuff is planned, I just sit down and start writing. Anyways, if you've read this far, could you please just go that little extra mile and review? I would like to know the thoughts of anyone reading this on what's good, what's bad, and what I can do to fix the bad. Please and thank you.**  
_

_**-All Times Pass**_


	3. Sparring with Reyna

**A/N: I know, I know. Next to nobody reads this, and those who do have probably realized that I do not update often or regularly. That being said, I would like to apologize for the long amount of time it took to put this out. Anyways, to those of you who actually read these things, please review. Tell me if you liked it, hated it, how your day was, what you would like me to do differently, if you think I should get rid of this or not, etc. Anyways, good day to you all, and for any Doctor Who fan who might have somehow stumble across this, Allons-y!**

_Shit. _As I walk into the fighting arena, that is the only thing going through my mind, at least one thousand times by now. _Reyna, my praetor, my literal superior in every conceivable aspect of importance right now, just challenged me to unarmored single combat. This is going to hurt. _Fishing around in my pocket, I pull out my Stygian Iron coin and flip it. Luckily, it lands on the staff side and not the bow side. And just as suddenly as I caught the coin, it was replaced by a cold, six foot long piece of Stygian Iron. _Well, at least I have a chance at not getting hit too much. Everything seems so much easier with Umbra in my hands._

During my little mental freak out, Reyna must have grabbed her sword, because I suddenly hear metal scraping on metal and leather, the unmistakable sound of a sword leaving its scabbard. I'm not sure if it's the sound of the sword being drawn or the piercing gaze I know that Reyna has affixed on the back of my head, but all the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention and I get the overwhelming urge to cower in fear. _I am a child of Lord Pluto. I'm supposed to have this effect on people, and yet she manages to make me nearly wet myself just with her presence. _"L-Lady Reyna? Are you sure we can't wear any armor?" _Dammit, why can't I talk to her without tripping over my tongue?_

"Quite sure. You aren't afraid, are you? What's the worst that could happen?" Reyna replies looking at me with very cold and very angry brown eyes. _Is it possible for eyes to look hot and cold at the same time?_

"Well, on my end, I could end up in the infirmary for a week with a few broken bones. Again. I could very realistically die. You... could - I don't know, maybe you'd get some slight bruising on your hands from thrashing me and trying to break my staff?"

I misspoke. Big-time. "The Legion is no place for those who fear death, Alexander Grey. Especially when you are the son of the Lord of the Underworld himself." Reyna readies herself to fight, getting into her stance and holding her gladius with both hands.

"I don't fear death, I just don't want to experi- Vulcan's sweat socks!" My response was cut short as Reyna charged me, wasting no time or pretense on this being mildly easy for me. Ducking under her charging slash, I am now in a very vulnerable back bend, my staff in both hands. As I continue watching her follow through on her slash, I see a lock of my hair falling. _Holy Pluto, that would've made for an unwanted family reunion._

Reyna quickly recovers and turns around to stab down at me. I, being the suicidally quick thinker that I am, quickly curl up and roll back into her, keeping my arms out to catch her sword arm. _Fuck, why did I do that? I left my weapon on the ground, and now she's basically got all kinds of free body shots on me. _Luckily, while my mind was freaking out, my body was acting. I flipped Reyna over me and disarmed her in one move, backing away with her sword in hand. Again, Reyna quickly recovers and, noting the situation, grabs Umbra off the ground. _Well, this should be interesting. I've never seen Reyna use a staff before. Maybe she won't be too good with one._

Just as I finish that thought, she starts going through some basic staff work, apparently getting a feel for its weight._ Fuck, that's right. She's a daughter of Bellona, a war goddess. Her being bad with any weapon would be like me being afraid of the dark. Lord Mars, if my friendship with Lance and Leah means anything to you, please help me._ Silence. Nothing happens. Not even a slight tingle to tell me that he even acknowledged my plea. _Well. Fuck._

I, now sufficiently shaking in my boots both figuratively and literally, hold up Reyna's gladius in a defensive position. Reyna simply smirks and charges, holding Umbra like a spear, but something seems off about the situation. _Is that a-_

Before I have time to finish my thought, Reyna has pinned me to the ground with my own weapon protruding from my right shoulder. This would be a more surprising and impressive feat if there hadn't been a two foot long blade piercing flesh, bone, and dirt. At this point most people would be screaming in pain or going into shock. I simply looked at my shoulder, back up at Reyna (who was leaning over me, making sure I couldn't pull Umbra out of my shoulder, and smirking), and shouted, "What in the name of Jupiter did you do that for? And where the fuck did that blade come from? Gods, do you know how much this kind of thing hurts? I swear by all the Gods that you are a sadistic woman who uses me for your sick, sick kicks!"

I'm going to take this moment to pause because I guess I should explain a little: when I was born, the Fates and Juno tried to intervene. Something about me growing up to destroy the world. Pluto was able to stop them from ending my life, promising that what they saw could be prevented with training, discipline, and his blessing. His "blessing" is as good as it is bad, though. Here are the good things: shadow travel, shadow manipulation, geokinesis, summoning whatever plants are in Persephone's garden (mostly medicinal or poisonous plants), control over life forces, and just being really fucking hard to kill. I can and have taken a beating that would put most heavyweight boxing champions in a coma, and managed to walk away when they finally tired themselves out. Granted, I had about eighty broken bones, sections of skin and muscle torn from blunt trauma, and a concussion that made me wish I was hungover just so I would have some other head problem to tell my mother about (I had a concussion, don't try to understand the thought process), but I managed to walk away. Here are the downsides: I feel all the pain that would normally happen and then some, my demigod stink/monster attraction factor is about ten times the usual amount of a child of Pluto, if I take enough pain to kill someone, I get to watch the death of any random human on earth as it is happening, if I get too angry I enter a rage mode that is determined to kill anything within 100 yards of me, and severe energy drain from every above listed ability. To get a picture of how drained I'm talking, think about how tired an in shape, untrained American would be after running a marathon and you have how tired I would be after using two of my powers in quick succession. To imagine what would happen if I used all my powers, imagine that same American running a marathon while carrying/dragging a sumo behind him. Because of this, I don't really use my powers if I can help it, but I practice with them, try to make it so I can use them more, but I'm so far only good with shadow travel. It's annoying and backwards because that usually drains his children so much more than any other power we could have. But I digress, this has probably bored you to tears if you haven't been occupied with why I suck at fighting with all those useful abilities. Oh well, back to the sparring match, if you can call it that.

Reyna just looked down at me, a rather creepy smile on her face, and said, "Maybe I am, maybe I'm not." Tugging on Umbra, she continues, "Just shake it off, Grey, this match isn't over until you can make me bleed. On the long list of things you haven't managed to do in the three months I've been personally handling your combat training, that is at the very top." After about five (painful) tugs on Umbra, she finally has it out of my shoulder and drops it on my chest (to those who don't know, a six foot iron pole that is an inch-and-a-half in diameter isn't exactly light, i.e. it hurt), then turns around and picks up her sword which I was unaware I had dropped though am not surprised, all things considered.

She turns back to me with a look that just screams "I know you just got stabbed through your arm. You gonna cry about it, or actually do something worthwhile?" _Thank the gods I have spent time working both arms alone. Granted, I never thought I would need it in anything other than a life or death situation. Granted, outside of a mission, sparring with Reyna is probably as close as I'm going to get. _After a few more moments of our silent stare down, I concede defeat, stand, and get ready for a major ass-kicking. Again. "Before this begins again, might I ask what you will do with all of your aggression should I ever wind up dead or MIA?"

"That-" Reyna begins charging me, staff behind her back in her left hand, "-is the least of your worries right now." _Is she left handed? Or maybe ambidextrous? Fuck! _In my little space-out moment, I had forgotten why she was charging me and barely had the time to bring up her sword to block her spinning strike. "Focus, Grey. Any slower and I would have broken three of your ribs. As it stands, be happy I'm only going half-speed." _Gods, help me. I can't let myself get distracted by these little nuances. It doesn't matter-_

_WHACK! _Suddenly, I'm on the ground, my head pounding. I just close my eyes and wait. It isn't a very long wait.

"Focus, Grey! Thinking is for anywhere but the battlefield when you aren't thinking about the battle!" _Ah, yes. More wisdom from Reyna, dealt with the combination of pain and shouting._ _If this situation is anything like all of the other times this has happened, she is standing one foot to my right and leaning on her weapon. _Hoping I'm right, I spin on my back, kicking towards where her knees should be. I make contact, and continue my spin, using the momentum to flip onto my hands and feet, somehow finding Reyna's sword in the process. My eyes open now, I find Reyna and do a quick somersault towards her. I right myself beside her, my left hand on her throat and her sword poised to stab at her head.

"Focus, Ramirez. You should have been up by now." In response, she glares, grabs my shirt and sword hand, flips me, and I suddenly find myself in a normal situation: Reyna straddling me, lightly panting, and pointing a sword at my chest. "You know, if you end up in this position any more often, and people might begin assuming that you like me more than just as your personal training dummy." Oddly, I never saw the next event coming. She stabs through my left shoulder, into the ground again. "Gods, dammit Reyna! One of these days you **will** get to know how this feels!" I shout through immense pain.

Reyna stands up, laughing lightly. "Suck it up, Grey. The only way I will ever know how this-" she points at her sword in my shoulder "-feels is if you grow the balls to not hold back in these sparring matches. I've seen you in action in our war games, and in live combat. You're better than this. I know that you at least have more skill with that staff of yours. I've had your private practices monitored, and they all report great things. Use them, or stop making idle threats." At this, she turns and walks away, and I am suddenly aware of the emptiness of the sparring pit, and my stomach.

"Reyna, aren't you going to pull this sword out of my arm and hurt me some more?" She only responds with silence. _Well, fuck. This is probably going to hurt a lot. _I raise my right arm, still in a lot of pain from her first stab, and with it, a large rock casting a shadow over me. _I really hope I'm wrong about this hurting. _I focus, attempting to shadow travel into Reyna's shadow, and then it happens. Despite the short distance, it still feels like forever in the chilling, whispering darkness. Soon, though, it ends, and I am standing behind Reyna, her sword still in my arm.

"Aaaaggghhhh! Fuck, that hurts!" And like the sadist she is, Reyna turns around, and swiftly pulls her sword out of my arm. "That doesn't help!" I shout, now gripping the gaping hole in my shoulder.

"Either you still wish to spar, or you wanted me to have my sword back, or at least have it out of your arm. I am more inclined to believe option one because you could have gone to the infirmary otherwise." She is still holding her sword, ready to strike or sheathe her sword depending on my answer.

"Well, I can still fight, and the first rule that you ever told me was that I fight until I can't whenever we spar. Besides, you said this match isn't over until I can make you bleed. You've only got my blood on you, like usual." My arms are now at my sides, ready for anything. And then I'm on the ground, wondering why I'm eating dirt when I don't feel any new pain. I try to get up, or at least move my head so I don't have to inhale dirt with every difficult breath, and I can't even do that.

"Come on, Grey, get up," Reyna says, clearly annoyed with me.

I try to respond, but my words come out rather garbled due to my make out session with the dirt.

Reyna then bends over and picks my head up by my hair, asking "What was that?"

I try to form a coherent response, but as any guy will tell you, it is admittedly difficult to form said responses when an admittedly pretty girl is a very short distance from your face and you have a really good view down their shirt at their, erm, ample assets. _Why can't I ever just look her in the eyes? So much of my current problem stems from not meeting her gaze. _After about twenty-five seconds of her waiting for me to respond, I finally manage to remember what I was saying. "I said, 'I'm trying, but I can't move anything.' And I still can't. I don't suppose you could get someone to find my friends or carry me to the infirmary?" I ask rather sheepishly, hoping that she won't drag me there herself, because Gods know that she would use it as a chance to berate me for my lack of endurance and getting her hopes up in a challenge I couldn't deliver.

"..." She just looks at me in silence for a few more seconds, then smiles one of her creepy, scary smiles. I really hope that means she's just going to have Aurum or Argentum drag me there and go eat.

No such luck.

She slings me, on my stomach, over her right shoulder in a fireman's carry, my arms dangling to about her waist, and my knees about even with her stomach. _Why does she have me like this? She didn't even do it right, my waist is supposed to be on her shoulder, not my stomach._

She starts walking, a very uncharacteristically bouncy walk, causing my arms to sway with each step, my hands lightly brushing her... I feel the heat rushing to my face (among other places). _Oh dear._ _I am so dead. _"You know, Xander," she begins - _Something is wrong here. She used my first name, and was that... playfulness in her voice - _"if you keep **that** up, people might begin assuming you like me more than as just your Praetor." _Yep, definitely playfulness. Gods, kill me now. This is going to be a long walk._

**I really wonder if anyone will tell me how their day was. I feel like those are the only reviews I will get.**


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